observation 22
by audra bellamy
Summary: This is my first short story here. Sara is forced to take a holiday.While in Paris she has had a night of one to many pints. Getting back to her flat she pens her thoughts on civilization. This is not an all ages story.


Observation #22

Audra Bellamy

copyrighted June 13.08

This is my first short story here. Sara is forced to take a holiday.while in Paris she has had a night of one to many pints. Getting back to her flat she pens her thoughts on civilization as a whole.

warning this work may contain subjects not suitable for all ages... ,ma

**Chapter One: Becoming or Unbecoming?**

**5:15 am** Paris, France

We rise, mentally exhausted...to get ready to go to work... where.. each day..we have chosen to settle and accomplish the tin task of surviving for.. 8 hours.. minus a half hour for lunch, 2 fifteen minute breaks and the proverbial 30 minutes of I am going to the file room, which really means I am going to the water cooler, which really means I am going to a meeting, which really means I am so mentally thhpyyz! that if I don't jump of the roof...now! I WILL DIE!!

To bad, we have a half way decent insurance policy, and a great workers comp program, where if one is in a coma they can lick and stick electrodes to your arses and get the loga- rhythms finished for the Smithe Project with an "E" that was due by last Thursday ..which happen before we were off on holiday and we could of gotten it done, complete, finished and all together in the bag..., but no one bothered to tell you about it, except they say," they sent you an email." and your reply, "was on Tuesday.. I told IT my email was not working correctly ." and now you are off crunching numbers, like energy bars devoured by tri athletes in a race. Because, second place is the first loser.

**5:45 am**

Each day we do our task to satisfy the masters, fooling them into thinking we are doing something that begs for a mere wage and that quick, "how are you?" while we run down the khaki painted hallway lined with the hung perfectly spaced prints by Successory To the meeting titled "The European commons market of 1845 meeting version 2.0".

The Master asks as you quickly pass.. and you.. have to respond correctly, answering a question, that no one really can truly answer. For if you answer honestly..." that me and my life partner are trying to adopt a child from an under privileged nation before we tie the knot, in the spring because love really want a spring wedding, with flowers, sunshine, cool breezes coming off the lake and all the fixings". You might be recycled as another human resource like 10/90 post consumer bathroom paper in a lovely natural that feels like sand paper. That is used at the park with the amazing lake, that has the cool breezes love enjoys so richly.

**6:00 am**

So we are now..up early...put on our proper entire, proper shoes, properly do our hair so that we blend in like vanilla. Eat in three bites our slightly white burnt toast, swallowing down our lukewarm carmel colored coffee, hoping that we did not get honey on our fresh pressed eggshell oxford shirt.

**6:07 am**

Looking into the mirror by IKEA. We reform our personality to fit in, while we scream revolution! Somewhere inside..can you still feel the vibration erupting that we had when we were juniors in high school? Where we used to be the hapless romantics, visionary, radicals arguing the Nietzsche way vs Puritan sensibilities . Do you remember some of us said, "we would not ever grow up! to be our folks.".. what a predictable profanity as we held at sharpie pen point air bohemian idealism.

By the way don't forget the lil one has football after school, the PTA, the shopping at the market and the quick shot of whisky to wash our pain away.

Arrgh! now where is my hunter green fitted cardigan?.

**Chapter two: A mammal Tele Documentary**

**4:58 pm**

Wait for it..look busy..don't stare.. DING!

Closing bell..lets see them all run like cattle on a stampede...

**11:30 pm **

It was a Friday..It is always a Friday. The autumn rain finally stopped. Puddles containing aged leaves, some burnt orange, mustard, and brown.. still.. like dead bodies after a bloody war lay everywhere on the street. Neon blinking lights.. blues red, and greens are reflecting off the pools.

You could hear midnight.

The night was filled with her aromas, cherry pipe smoke, grey steam rising from the rusty manhole covers and silver steam vents, sauce and cooked cheese from the pizza shoppe and sex.. across McKinley street. The click clack of dominating high heels and the whispers from alley ways mingle with the occasional distant Police siren reminds us that there is still some kind of rule we were taught to respect. If they caught us we would smile and respect...right?

**12:02 am**

Bodably Pub on Vine Street

There she was, yes there is always a she with her perfect soft rouge lips, her luminescent glowing skin, her magical eyes of cool blue waiting for the love-lies to ask the interview.. "what is a lass like you doing in pub like this? how far did you haft to fall because you sure have a heavenly body?, can I buy you a drink?, and the sinker. Is your flat far from here I am new in this town, a business man with out a place to rest my head tonight and ..it.. is raining a little again ...I will respect you in the morning".. That one is usually followed by a more desperate one getting dressed quietly in the dark, then the door opens slowly.. not to creek and the click.. before she wakes up to one more cold waking in a soft bed made for two and some how someone always is waking alone. You say to yourself to lessen the sting,"At least there was warm body near mine for awhile". And... what about the sting?

**12:30 am**

There he is. Yes, there he is. There is always a he. Strong arms, nice hands, great arse and great kissable lips. He is always somewhere. But where is he when you need a man to be here with you?

You see the man and you cream for the man. But when you get him. He is a puppy. Puppies are great to look at, play with and dream about. Then you trust enough to take him home. He eats your red leather chair, he leaves the seat up, his man part has a leaking problem on your new bathroom pink with black trim carpet and you always step in it.

Then your sister calls..she says, " oh my gawd, I was at this poetry reading and this guy, oh my gawd.. He got me right in the heart, he really knew how to finish my thoughts, what a potential soul mate... he is so cool, he is so radical, his ideas are shaking the world, when he got off stage it was foreplay just looking into his blue eyes...he is what I have been looking for...I tell you the truth,wait a minute the one who never gets me is getting up..why did I marry him?..oh yeah he had a good features.. Chow".

**1:57 am**

And there "they" are, there is always a "they". "They" arrive in a group, "They" dress the same , smell the same, and walk the same."They dance in a pack.. "they" are always judging wrong of what "they" don't wish to understand.. Saying that,"everyone else is different". " "They" go to the "right" church sing songs, bow, kneel, and go out again and get drunk together. Thank God for High Holy Days. "They" are always in a pack . Wolves are always in a pack.. For if one of "they" would be found to to be alone, it would be suicide. When one of "they" is at home in ones bed by ones self. "They" always have a lonely hand in solitude that is getting an education and exercise. 'They" go to work. "They" breed other "theys". Leaving a legacy or "theyism " to be passed on and on and on.

I wonder in a 100 years from now, when some science team digs us this civilization what will they write in there logs. This society always had big thumbs and one hand was bigger than the other...and... Please can, someone explain what are these round scars on this mummified arse?"

The phone rings the cherry night.."Hello...? There is no one there..Sara falls back to sleep.

...


End file.
